That was what the medical professional told Ivy after carefully examining her shoulder.
The riding crop had torn through the fabric and broken the skin along the top of her shoulder blade.
She needed wound care, a medical examination, and follow-up treatment to make sure it healed properly.
The soup had also left a small area of irritated skin beneath the uniform, but the crop injury was the immediate concern.
Ivy sat in the estate’s first-aid room wearing a clean robe over her remaining clothes.
Her navy uniform lay folded beside her.
Maya sat opposite, gripping a paper cup of water with both hands.
“I’m sorry,” the girl whispered.
Ivy looked at her.
“For what?”
“If I’d been more careful with the tray—”
“You slipped.”
“I should have watched where I was going.”
“Did you see the wet patch on the floor?”
Maya shook her head.
“Neither did I. Someone had spilled a drink. That’s why your foot went out from under you.”
Maya’s eyes filled again.
“But she hit you because you protected me.”
Ivy adjusted the robe over her shoulder.
“She hit me because she chose to. Don’t confuse those two things.”
Maya stared at her cup.
Ivy knew a little about the girl.
She’d started working for the catering company only three weeks earlier.
Her mother had been ill for months, and Maya had taken extra shifts to cover household expenses while her two younger brothers continued attending school.
The Blackwood engagement event was supposed to be her first major assignment.
She’d arrived two hours early, polished her shoes in the staff restroom, and asked Ivy three times whether her uniform looked presentable.
When the accident happened, Vivienne immediately demanded to know who was responsible.
Maya had begun to speak.
Ivy interrupted.
“I was carrying the soup, ma’am. The accident was mine.”
